GOD’S FAMILYThe world has done a good job on me this week, Lord.It's Sunday and I just don't want to go to church.I want to go into the countryAnd let the fresh air rid me of the stress.I'm all uptight, knotted insideLike a rubber band wound up tight.Do I really have to go to church?Can't I find you just as wellIn some quiet meadowland or dell?If I go to church I'll only upset the faithful;I'm bound to react to Mrs R,You know her, Lord;I'd be surprised if she doesn't upset you as well!Now she'll be there, come what may;So, can't you make do with her today?I don't feel at all like being at prayer,Truth to tell, today it’s just a chore.It isn't that I don't love you, Lord,It's just I'm tired. I want refreshment.Don't make me feel so awful, Lord,You said I'm free to choose-you did-You said it Lord!Today I choose for me instead.;Instead of sitting in a churchRebelling at having to be there,Being a saint when sinner man is more my pose.It’s lovely here, in the country Lord.It's very peaceful isn't it, just you and me;We should do this more often, wouldn't you agree?I’d love the folk at church to experience this!There's no reason I should feel guilt, is there?Yet-yet, strangely though the tension’s goneThere’s an emptiness deep down;Could it be that I must learnThat peace is truly valuable only whenIt’s shared among the family.I've missed the chance to be with them today.The countryside was here a day ago,A day ago the family could be here,Today they've gone to your house.Thank you for being with me butI wish I'd called in at your houseAnd have been withYour family.

It may be that we wonderWhat heaven will be like,We ask what kind of peopleEnjoy eternal life?Some saints with golden haloesOr martyrs of the faith-Brave souls who died believingThey’d lived for Jesus’ sake?-Those who died too young to knowWhat sin could ever mean?Or pious folk who’ve journeyedAnd now embrace their dream?But what about the peopleWho make mistakes each day?Are they debarred from entryIs that the price they pay?Is heaven just for the perfectFor those who never sin?Who is considered worthyBy right to enter in?Are not all saints still humanAnd flawed, with feet of clay?Must all such imperfectionsOur hopelessness display?It’s true that those unworthyGod’s heaven can never see,The smallest sin would tarnishGod’s awesome purity;So is our living worthlessMust we admit defeat?Is heaven really not, thenWhere we, our God, can meet?A thousand hallelujahsDrown out that dreadful thought!-We are assured we’re worthyBy all that Jesus wrought,-Our guilt he bore at Cal’vry,Sin’s penalty he paid,And heaven is now awaitingAll those by grace he’s saved.The day we stand before himNo judgement need we fear-We’ll hear the words of Jesus:‘My child, you’re welcome here!Back to index

Can those who mourn be comfortedNow life is not the same,When many thoughts invade the mindAnd cause such endless pain?The where and why we can’t resolve,No matter how we try,The sorrow that can haunt us soHas caused us many a sigh;The places we could once enjoyToo many memories hold,Familiar sights so hard to bearAs scenes once more unfold;Though others, too, may pass this way,The grief, no one can share, Each breaking heart, so personal is,It seems beyond repair.The photographs stare from the wallImmobilized in time,They cannot speak but seem to say, “It’s part of God’s design,-You may not understand his planAnd doubts may often comeBut in his mercy, God has said“Come home, your work is done.”’

We hear God’s word for those we loveNow in eternityBut is there hope for lonelinessWhich hurts so dreadfully?“Blessed are those who mourn”, Christ said“for comfort I will giveAnd those who cast their sin on me, They shall for ever live.”Each moment of each passing dayGod freely gives his grace,We may not understand just how, He fills all time and space;But God is faithful to his word,And hears each anguished prayer,He gently comforts those who mournWith gracious loving care.Back to indexWELCOMES!

He’ll (She’ll) be waiting on that morningWhen the dead in Christ will rise,He’ll (She’ll) be standing there with JesusWith the angels by his(her) side;Then the reason for the parting And the sorrows you now feel,You will hear the explanationAnd the grief, at last, will heal.For the present, death is awesome,Overwhelming us with dread,But we know that death was conqueredWhen the blood of Christ was shed.Though they sealed the tomb securely,Jesus rose and lives today,So we sorrow for the momentBut the fear he takes away;No captive can the grave now holdIf belief in Christ is true,For everyone who trust God’s WordHas been promised life anew; It’s a life without restriction,It’s how life was meant to be,It’s where tears are never needed,It’s God’s promised legacy.But could heaven be so perfectWhen the ones we love aren’t there?It would be the sort of HeavenThat we’d find so hard to bear.He’ll be waiting on that morning,When the dead in Christ will rise,He’ll be standing there with Jesus,There’ll be welcomes, not goodbyes!Back to index

THEY'RE MINE

It’s so hard not to worryWhen things are going wrong;But those who trust in JesusWill find they are made strong.He takes the cares we carry-The burdens of the day,And when we feel most anxious,“They’re mine,” we’ll hear him say.Back to index

THE THINGS WE SAY

“You’re in our prayers” we kindly say,And make a mental note to pray,But so much else diverts our thoughtsOur well laid plans oft go astray,Our promise was sincerely madeBut often seem a cruel charade.

“Give us a ring if we can help”The words are said with true intent,We sympathise, and at the time,No one would doubt our words are meant,But time goes by and we forgetThe heartaches that will not relent.

“We understand just how you feel”We’re heard to say to those bereaved;But only they have lived their livesAnd know the heartbreak of their need;We meant it well, but it’s not true,-We cannot share what they go through.

Sometimes replacing words by deedsCould better meet the needs they face-Could give the comfort they requireAnd be a channel of God’s grace,A thousand words can not replaceThe gesture of a warm embrace.Back to index

THE FIERCEST STORM

By human toil, life’s highest mountains man can climb,Intensity of trials reduce,And make life bearable once more.But God empowers and mountains lose their awful dread,Ways round and through, below, aboveAre found to make our spirits soar.

Some rivers are too wide, too dangerous to cross,Their depth our bound’ries firmly set,Our island daily shrinks yet more.But he who trod the surface of a troubled seaAnd bade his child to imitate,Can guide us through what lies before.

The darkness of the night when even shadows failAnd fear with empty laughter comesTo ridicule and scorn,But Jesus died and rose and hope anew was born;Who walks with him need never fearThe dangers of the fiercest storm.Back to index

LIBERTY!

The guns have ceased their firing,The trenches now are still, The men have paid their sacrifice, Their final act of will.No crosses yet are readyTo mark their ordered rest,But comrades cradle bodiesOf men who did their best.No bands of brass are playing, No laurel wreaths are theirs-Just silence of surrender,Some to death and some to cares.It’s over, save the counting, ‘Tommy’s won’ the papers said,But the whisper of the treesSounds the anthem of the dead.Back to index

I’LL FOLLOW

Lord,I’ll follow you just when and whereYou may decide my life to use,And even if your will for meMeans that my will I cannot choose,I’ll follow still, I’ll follow still,Until I know I’ve done your will.

A lady, bereaved of the one she loved most,Is looking for comfort and hope,The words that she hears seem so shallow and crass,She wants to know how she can cope.It seems too simplistic to say “Jesus cares-He knows the extent of your pain”When hearts that are breaking and hurting so much, And everything seems all in vain.An unemployed man who is at his wits endIs worried from morning till night,He’s looking for something to lighten his loadTo get some relief from his plight.It seems too simplistic to say “Jesus cares-He knows the extent of your pain”When hearts that are breaking and hurting so much, And everything seems all in vain.The sad little children who love mum and dad,But parents are fighting like mad,There’s shouting in anger and slamming of doors,And it’s all so terribly sad.It seems too simplistic to say “Jesus cares-He knows the extent of your pain”When hearts that are breaking and hurting so much, And everything seems all in vain.The drug user wonders about his next fix,He stumbles alone in the street,Rejected by people who turn in disgust,Who look but who seldom will speak.It seems too simplistic to say “Jesus cares-He knows the extent of your pain”When hearts that are breaking and hurting so much, And everything seems all in vain.An illness has come to a neighbour nearby,The prospects are known to be bleak,There’s fear for the future and all it might holdAnd faith is becoming so weak.It seems too simplistic to say “Jesus cares-He knows the extent of your pain,”When hearts that are breaking and hurting so much, And everything seems all in vain.But the ways God uses are not those of man,However well meaning our deeds;Though sometimes a channel of grace we may be,His miracles meet all man’s needs!Back to index

GOD’S SUPREMACY

If Herod's plan had worked,And Jesus had been killedBefore he had the chance to liveAnd see God's plan fulfilled,Then God's omnipotenceWould fail that very day-If Herod's scheme were to succeed,How pointless then to pray;Man would in triumph boastHis actions could prevailHe'd cynically assume God's placeIf prayer could not avail.But God is greater farThan any human mind,He sees beyond man's sabotage,To rescue lost mankindWhat madness comes on manTo think he could succeed,To live and rule, control the worldAnd meet its every need?What man with just a wordCould earth or heaven makeOr know that every act performedIs made without mistake?Could he man's heart discern,Capriciousness explain,Or bring to life a living soulAnd all its years sustain?Alone God reigns in power,Unequalled and divine,And man subservient has to beTo his supreme design.Back to index

God needed a womb to birth him a Son,When Mary he chose, the work was begun.God needed a man to father his Son,When Joseph he chose, the work was begun.God needed a home to nurture his Son,In Bethlehem’s stall, the work was begun.God needed a way to instruct his Son,By those in God’s house, the work was begun.God needed to show his love through his Son,And people believed- the work was begun.God needed a day to honour his Son,When he was baptized, the work was begun.God needed assent from Jesus his Son,“Not my will, but yours”, the work was begun.God needed to say,“Come home now my Son”The time has now come, the work was begun.God needed to have, in heaven, his Son,To plead for our cause, the work was begun.God needed to show the way to his Son,When Pentecost dawned, the work was begun.God needed us all to worship his Son,When we owned his name, the work was begun.God needed his home to welcome his Son,When Christians arrive, the work has begun.God’s needs are fulfilled through Jesus his Son, God wants us in heaven, the work has begun. God welcomes us home because of his Son,The work he began is finished and done!Back to index

FORGIVENESS FOR ALL

A man who lives along the streetIs not the sort you’d like to meet,He’s rude and rough and quite uncouth,He’s not my type to tell the truth.The heav’n I see is not for him, God surely wouldn’t let him in!

A girl on drugs who doesn’t care-Who drives her neighbours to despair,She takes and takes and never givesAnd says its how she wants to live;Could heaven really be a place For those who choose their lives to waste?

The smart young man who’s found a wayTo get rich quick while others pay,He laughs at those with honest viewsAnd doesn’t care when people lose;Could he the heavenly gates pass through?What travesty could make that true?

Why should I pray for such as these,And weep for them on bended knees,When if they entered heav’n’s preserve,It would be more than they deserve?Must I assume I need do moreNo longer Godlessness ignore?

And then I think of why Christ died, When he that day was crucified,He asked his Father to forgiveThe ones who wouldn’t let him live,If he in love could think that way,I cannot look the other way.Back to index

FEARIt’s in the middle of the nightWhen loneliness appears, When worry overwhelms the mindAnd amplifies the fears;While those we love sweet slumber keepThe nightmare runs amok,Each moment lasts a lengthy hourAnd fears all reason mock;‘What’, ‘if’, and ‘when’ replace the ‘why’,The worst seems poised to fall,The dark, the thought encourages,There seems no hope at all.O haste it on, if it must be,Reveal the world unknown,It is the passage that we fear,The one we walk alone.

[Pause]Not yet, despite the hellish nightFor dawn perspective brings;Another day some faith to findTo grasp the heavenly things.But night is coming all too soonAgain with fear and dread, The torture of the words unsaidBorne silently instead.To those whose eyes turn to their GodAnd urgent help implore, The presence of the ComforterTheir peace of mind restore.Back to index

CAN THEY TELL?

Can they tell I’ve been with Jesus,Does my life, his life reflect,Can his kindness and compassionBoth be seen by all I’ve met;Do my words bring consolation,Carry balm as his would do,Can the worried and the anxiousFind his strength in me, anew;Do the lonely sense his presenceWhen I take their hand in mine,Do they recognise the Saviour-In the human, see divine;Do they see how much he loves themBy the way I show I care,Do they get an honest pictureOf the one whose name I bear?May the world see only JesusWhen they turn their eyes on me,May they see I’ve made the journeyAll the way to Calvary.Back to index

A NEW YEARUntouched, unspoilt,A brand new year,So full of hope,Perhaps some fear,Some tasks to do,Some trials endure,New friends to meet,Old habits cure;And time to spareTo love and careWhen others won’t,And burdens share.But most of all,Our God to praise,And every dayWalk in his ways;And when the yearIs past and gone,May God be pleasedWith all we’ve done.Back to index

FROM GOD

‘I send you the babe in the manger,My gift out of love for you all,Take care of him, please, he is precious,This child in the Bethlehem stall;His task is enormous and complex,The sin of the world he must bear,And even if you would reject him,Consider how much I must care;From grandeur in heaven I sent him,Where angels his bidding obeyed,The offer with which I entrust him,You’ll see in his life is displayed;I send him because he is sinless,A pattern of all you can be,Released from the bondage of SatanFor ever from sin to be free;I give you my Son as your SaviourNo other your sin can atoneIn him is the way of salvation,In Jesus and Jesus alone.Back to index

IT’S OVER

The guns have ceased their firing,The trenches now are still, The men have paid their sacrifice, Their final act of will.No crosses yet are readyTo mark their ordered rest,But comrades cradle bodiesOf men who did their best.No bands of brass are playing, No laurel wreaths are theirs-Just silence of surrender,Some to death and some to cares.It’s over, save the counting, ‘Tommy’s won’ the papers said,But the whisper of the treesSounds the anthem of the dead.

Far from the fields of battle,In hamlet and in town,The masons carve on marbleThe names of those gunned down;The photos now are fading, The medals lie in drawers,Such is the end for soldiersWho fight in all the wars.Back to index

BELIEF

Belief is not that easyWhen our world is crumbling fast,As circumstances worsen,And shadows round us cast.The needed strength and answersSeem a million miles away,We feel such devastationThat lasts throughout each day.Belief is not that easyWhen the problems all appear,It seems that our tomorrowsHold all the things we fear.Believing is not feeling,Feelings change too easilyIt’s resting in God’s promise-God answers faithfullyBelief is simply trustingIn God’s providential careAnd knowing he is faithfulThrough days of dark despair.Believing is relyingThat the word of God is true,That God will hear and answer,And bring us safely through.Belief is never easyIf the cross makes no appeal,For there the Saviour showed usHis love for us is real.Back to index

On Christmas Day, the presentsLie underneath the tree,And everyone starts guessing, ‘What can my present be?’It’s obvious from the laughterHow much the presents mean, The thoughts behind the choicesEnrich each Christmas scene;The baby who is sleepingIn lowly manger stallIs left without a presentIt’s his birthday, after all!Is there some gift to offerTo the Saviour of menWho gave himself so freelyAt little Bethlehem?The gift he most desiresAnd always will accept, Is confession of our sinsOver which we have wept.Giving to God is Christmas, It’s why he came to earth,Let’s give our lives to JesusOn this the Saviour’s birth.Back to index

Do you see people smile yet there’s pain and distress, It disguises the hurt that’s inside, Do you hear words so right, yet the tone is all wrongAnd it’s clear there is something to hide?Do you see tears in eyes that would flow if they dared,But they’re held back for fear they will show;Do you hear stifled sighs but they somehow escape And the world seems too busy to know?Do you see love rejected in children’s young eyes,When they’re suffering from daily neglect;Does the image remain when the scenes have long gone And your heart tells you not to forget?Are you moved when you notice injustice abounds,And you see people just walk away;Or you reach out to those who are sorely distressed When their suffering gets worse every day?Then your heart has been touched by the crucified Christ And your spirit, anointed and blessedFor the needs of the world are the marks Christians bearGiving love to the sad and oppressed.

Back to indexCHURCHAll churches are fine if they are like mineWith steeples which soar to the sky;The gargoyles look down with fiercesome frownsOn people who idly pass by;Each window is named, exquisitely stainedDepicting a martyr or saint;Reserved family pews with all the best viewsAnd kneelers and cushions so quaint;Tombstones at angles, graveyards in tanglesConfused by the organ’s great chords;Crypts all mysterious, banners victorious,And plaques with their ancient awards;Vicar is droning, deaf people moaning;Appeals for more money are made;Elders are sleeping, woodworm is creeping,The murals continue to fade;Effigies resting, children protesting;The Eucharist now must begin;Wine is transforming, grace is adorning,Jesus, the Lord, has come in!Back to index

ANGELSI’ve never seen an angel,A heavenly one I mean,(Some people are angelicAnd those, I’ve often seen).I’ve never seen an angel,Nor had one speak to me;No whispered conversationArriving mysticallyI’ve never seen an angel,And heard some startling news;Perhaps I’m so suspicious,His message I’d confuse.I’ve never seen an angelWith wings all fluffy white,Who meets me in my prayer timeOr in the dead of night.I’ve never seen an angel,And often wonder why;It’s hard to think of beingsWho look like us but fly.I’ve never seen an angel,Nor caught a sight of them,But shepherds in the fields have,In fields at BethlehemI’ve never seen an angel,They don’t appear to me,I sense, ‘though, they are presentThey’re here, invisibly.I’ve never seen an angel,Perhaps there is no need,God proved he lives, at Calv’ryAnd faith is all we needBack to index

BEWAREI’m great at giving good advice,It’s always free as well;The range of topics is quite vast,-As friends of mine will tell.A clever cliché I’ll provide,An adage for each day,In every kind of circumstanceThere’s something I can say.From troubled times to broken hearts,All these I understand;The platitudes come thick and fast,And always one to hand.Beware of me, all care worn soulsWho long for words of calm;Who trusts in man and not in GodWill miss the healing balm.The one who to the Saviour guidesThe desperate and the lost,Is truer friend by far than me,Avoid me at all cost!

Not while I walk the hillsAnd watch the scudding clouds drift byWill I allow my mind to doubtThat God exists;Creation cannot be by chance,For less than God could not achieve,He gives to me the very life I breathe,For God exists.Not while I see the treesIn autumn’s rich and royal clothesWill I to other source assignCreation’s plan;Too much exists that complements,A lighted earth from shining moonA rising sun dispels the morning gloomFor God exists.Not while I see the starsSuspended in their majestyWill I believe that man is king,For God exists;No human mind the planets rule,Yet he who planned the galaxyLoved me as far as Calvary,My God exists!Back to index

CHRISTMAS

Christmas is a lovely timeCrispy snow and church bells chime;Stony faces all relax,Somehow Christmas means all that;Little children being good,Overeating Christmas pud,Grandma’s sitting near the fireOut of tune with TV choir;Mums in kitchens stuffing birdsCallers come with kindly words,Tinsel glitters on the treeSanta’s coming presently;Dad’s asleep and snoring hard,Granddad’s proving quite a card;Chestnuts which we seldom eatRoasted, make a seasonal treat;No one wants to be unkindPleasantries we try to find,What a nicer world it isWhen we try to be like this;Maybe if we really prayChristmas could be every day!Back to index

COMMITTAL(For reciting at a funeral service)

Journey to the heavenly city,Meet your Saviour, Lord and King,Wear the crown reserved just for you,Show him all the love you bring.Wear the robe he waits to give youListen to his proud ‘Well Done’!Hear the angels’ welcome chorus,All in praise to God’s own Son.Take your place among the peopleAll redeemed at Calvary,Safe for ever in his presenceNow and for eternity.Join the heavenly hosts in worship,Meet the saints who’ve gone before;At the throne of grace he’ll meet youAt his feet your life outpour;Let his glory be your glory,Claim the promise he has made;Lo, a new creation dawning,All sins debts he has repaid.There receive your heav’nly treasureKnown to God and God alone,So deserved and rightly given,All the fruit for him you’ve sown.Rest in him, O faithful servant,Now secure from earthly claim,We entrust you to his keepingIn our Saviour’s precious name.Back to index

COULD IT HAVE BEEN DIFFERENT?If thorns did not exist,No hideous crown would there have been;If trees had never grown,No cross would ever have been seen;If spears had not been made,Its thrust could not have pierced his side;If I had never sinned,Jesus, my Lord, need not have died.

If Pilate had been brave,False charges would have been dismissed;If vows High Priests had kept,Their word would not have been at risk;If Peter had not fled,At least there would have been one friend;If Judas had been true,For him, no tragic traitor’s end.

If Mary had said ‘no’,God’s planning must have been revised;If angels failed their task,Some other plan must be devisedIf God so loved the world,The cross, the tomb, the natural fearsTook place, but not by chance;By chance? Not in a million years!Back to index

DAY’S ENDDay’s end is beckoning fast,Its triumphs and its trials must cease‘Though some have seemed so vast.“More time, more time,” I cried,“One pair of hands is all I have,You know how hard I’ve tried!”

Day’s end is beckoning fast,And every thought and every deedMust be the very last.“More time, more time,” I cried“So little time, so much to do.”Will there be shame or pride?

Day’s end is beckoning fast,A thousand things I meant to do,But now the time is past.“More time, more time,” I criedThere is no more, the hands have stopped,Now comes the great divide.

Before the judgement seatThe record of our lives unveiled,Entire and quite complete.“More time, more time,” I cried.“Hush, child,” the smiling judge replies,“I see my blood applied!”Back to index

DEATHDeath here on earth comes to us all,It came to us through Adam’s fall;God had not planned that we should die,It pains him when we grieve and cry.He made us for companionship,To have, with him, true fellowship.Despite commandments to obey,Man chose to go his selfish way,And much has suffered since that day.Since steps were seen to go astray;Death is the wage of sin, we read(No choice in that-we’re Adam’s seed;)But Jesus came, and took our place,Now there is hope for Adam’s race.The one who puts his trust in Christ-Believes in Calvary’s sacrifice-No longer fears the ancient law,He lives by grace for evermore.The body can be laid to restThe spirit it has borne is blessed.God’s Son has died that we might live,The cross is there new hope to give.Take comfort from God’s Word today,He is the truth, the life, the way.Through death God welcomes to his homeAll those who claim to be his own.Our loved ones we shall see againIf all believe in Jesus’ name.Back to index

DUSKEach day there comes a time called duskThat twilight ‘in between’.The street lights shine self consciouslyNot needed, yet still seen;The stars a million miles away,The watery moon in sight,When day and evening argue long,Before the fall of night.The sun sinks slowly in the west,Reluctantly descends,And people draw their curtains closedBefore the daylight ends.‘Tis not the night one fears to come,For darkness has its charm,Not light or dark for this is dusk,Which brings such strange alarm.The darkness draws the light awaySo irreversibly;The robber of the daylight comesSilent and stealthily.It hides the dusk just for a while,But come again it must;That eerie world of make belief,Not light, not dark, but ‘dusk’.Back to index

FRIENDSHIPI met some old friends in town today,We talked about this and that;The time passed quickly, needless to say,It does when you stop and chat;Their lives had moved on since last we met,We’re older and going grey;But mem’ries were stirred and time stood still,When we talked of yesterday.We shared the dreams we hoped to fulfil,And spoke of plans we have made,The conversation ebbed and it flowed,As times were again replayed.We listened with care to news now told,Insights, opinions, too,We heard successes proudly announced,Gave credit where praise was due.We said our goodbyes, ‘we’ll keep in touch’;True friendship is hard to beat.If joy like this, even half as muchCould be when Jesus we meet!If human friendship can be so rich,And give us so much pleasure,To meet with Jesus, compared to this,Must be the greatest treasure.Back to index

A CHILD’S GIVINGI’d like to give to JesusSomething he’d really like,But would he choose my favourite things-My dog or mountain bike?I’m sure he’s far too busyTo play with what is mine;Perhaps I’ll keep them for himUntil he has more time!Back to index

IS THERE A GOD?There can’t be a God, so academics proclaim,Just look at the chaos, believing’s insane;There are children who starve and the world doesn’t care,What kind of God would stand idly and stare?

There are earthquakes and famines and pestilence, too,If God was so loving, he’d help if he knew;There are suffering people with awful disease,What kind of God would ignore all their pleas?

There are nations divided by evil and greed,If God is so caring, why is there such needThere are despots and tyrants who rule savagelyBut what God would view it so carelessly

There’s a cross that is horrible, blood stained yet bare,It’s the cross of a man who really does careIt’s the cross of a Saviour who promised to comeAnd give us his life after all we have done.Back to index

IN HOUSE LANGUAGEMajors flattened become minors,D.C. marks just where to go,Time and key are so important,As musicians all must know.Double bars and first time bracketsHairpins, too, must all be seen,Lento, largo, largamente,And all others in between.Harmony is homophonic,Or polyphony is there,Staves are there to set the voicesPitch is chosen with great care.All of this is second natureIn the world musicians live,Those who are not skilled in musicExplanations we must give.In the church we’re likewise guilty,When familiar terms we share,We expect the newest memberOf such things to be aware.Sacrificial lambs and altars,Sprinkled blood which once atoned,Are to say the least confusing,When the Bible is unknown.Teach us, Lord, the art of teachingGently, kindly, truth reveal,So our words are not mistakenMake your message crystal clear.Take the old familiar language,Clothe it with the Spirit’s powerSo the ancient meets the modernIn the language of this hour.Back to index

IT’S A BLESSINGWhat you see, you think is me,But ‘me’ is someone diff’rent;The ‘me’ you see I’d love to beI really am quite diff’rent.This smile of mine, that looks sublime,Conceals a frown too often;I may look fine, most of the time,It masks me all too often.Although I seem all squeaky clean,Inside I’m not so pretty;If it was seen, this ugly sceneYou’d see it wasn’t pretty;But you can’t see the nat’ral ‘me’And that is such a blessing;The ‘me’ you see is Christ in meBelieve me, that’s a blessing!Back to index

LOVE POEM TO GODYou find so many ways, dear God,To show your love to me,-The beauty of a starry sky,Majestic canopy;The rolling hills and wand'ring streams,And nature's annual fall,The laughter of a child at playOblivious to a call.You bless me with the gift of sightAnd as life's scenes pass byAn imprint of your love I seeSuch love!-I wonder 'why'?You choose to make the sounds appearAnd music fills my soul;My spirit answers to your voiceAnd blessed, I am made whole.You sent your Son to die for me.A cross invaded love,And sorrow reached you from the earthAnd grieved all heaven above.Your love to me is proved enoughBut mine unsaid remains,For all the words in all the worldStill leave my speech in chains.How can I tell you all I feel,For all you are to me?Could even tongues of angels tellLove’s true intensity?If words my love cannot convey,Then must my actions speak,And by my living day by dayLove's great appeal will meet.I'll daily walk in holiness,And by each step I take,I'll speak the language of my Lord,Love's covenant to make.Back to index

ME?You’ve chosen me to serve you?Lord, what are you thinking of!I’m not extraordinary at all,No special gifts can I recall;Lord, what are you thinking of!You’ve chosen me to serve you?Lord, what are you thinking of!In talents I must end the queue,I know that’s true and so must you;Lord, what are you thinking of!You’ve chosen me to serve you?Lord, what are you thinking of!Could this some heavenly error beOr did I fancy you called me?Lord, what are you thinking of!You’ve chosen me to serve you?Lord, what are you thinking of!If this is what is meant to be,Then you would need to live in me.Could I perhaps have heard and knowJust what you’re thinking of?Back to index

MIRACLESWe’re surrounded by God’s miracles,He provides them every day;A sunset thrown into the sky,A dragonfly at play,The first steps of a child,The surgeon’s skilful knife,The peace which answers earnest prayerTo end some mindless strife,A childlike faith born in a man,The technicolour rainbow,And tiny seeds sown in the earthWhen shoots begin to show,A stream meandering casually,The changing Autumn sceneIn every day, in every way,God’s miracles are seen.Back to index

NIGGLING ACHESome suffer pains much worse than me,Some suffer all the time-Some children who are handicapped,Complaints far worse than mine.Tomorrow, next week, sometime soon,My pain will fade away,The body find its remedy,It’s nature’s natural way.But tremors will their toll exactFrom those of older years;The days will merge quite seamlesslyAnd bring irrational fears.The patient on dialysisWould willingly exchangeThe pain which comes just for a while,For alien tubes so strange.The child with blood that will not clot,Who lives in daily dread,Who cannot play the simple gamesAnd many a tear will shed,If only he could be like meWith niggling aches to bear,He wouldn’t sigh and voice complaintsTo people everywhere.My eyes, the world, its wonders see,The blind are not so blessed;I hear the music all around,Some silence brings distress..No crippled hands, arthritic knees,Preventing me from work,No daily drug to ease the painOr stop the sudden jerk.Let twinges and my minor achesNot cause me to abstainFrom all the things I can enjoy;I really can’t complain.Back to index

NIGHT WATCHThrough the dark of early morn,Hear the sounds before the dawn,Heavy lorries passing by,Tyres upon the tarmac cry;Does the world no longer sleep-Must it constant vigil keep?Trains now lumber noisilyOver points impatiently;Travellers rise to beat the rushAdding to the daily crush;Does the world no longer sleep-Must it constant vigil keep?Mail must reach us by sunrise,At the cost of sleepless eyes;Airplanes fly mysteriouslyIn the night skies, stealthily;Does the world no longer sleep,Must it constant vigil keep?In pursuit of wealth and fameMust there burn an endless flame?Is there time no more for rest,Healing for the sorely pressed?Does the world no longer sleepMust it constant vigil keep?Night which passes as the day,Robbed of time its role to playIs a darkness without need,Simply there to feed man’s greed.Back to index

PRICELESSSomeone must carry the burdensOf those whose cares are so great,Someone must listen with patienceTo those who hearts almost break;Someone is needed to offerWords of comfort and hope,Someone to trust with the tearsFor people unable to cope;Burdens are heavy to carry,And patience is costly to bear;Priceless are those who are willingThe worries of others to share.Back to index

UNHAPPY PEOPLEWhy are so many peopleSo discontent with life,So often temperamental,Involved in so much strife,Oblivious to the blessings,Ungrateful all the time?They really are unhappyIn misery, sublime.They can’t have breathed the fresh airA thousand times a day,And seen the coloured rainbow,Or watched a child at play;When did they want for shelter,Or sleep with hunger’s pain?They must have missed the pleasureOf sunshine after rain;Did parents never love them,Was Christmas never fun?They’re not infirm in wheelchairs,Disasters haven’t come!Have sheets all crisply launderedTheir comforts never shared?Have holidays been awful,Good memories never stirred?They must have seen a sunsetOr watched the birds in flight,Or seen the stars a- twinklingAs darkness beckons night;Has Mozart’s genius passed themHis notes have failed to hear?Has Springtime not been welcomedWhen flowers in bloom appear?What happiness they’re missing,While looking for the bad,No wonder they’re unhappyAnd always looking sad!Back to index

OLD AGEThe mornings are worse for the aches and pains,Arthritis, lumbago to give it their names;To bend down takes time and cannot be rushed,Our hopes to go faster are sure to be crushed.And standing up straight needs some extra thoughtAs multi contraptions are urgently sought,Pulleys and zimmers once thought a huge jokeEstablish us clearly as ‘elderly folk’.We’ve handles on walls and sticks in the hallStrategically placed to prevent a bad fall.Unlikely it seems when we all start out,But measles are nothing to ailments like gout.The telephone rings but cuts off too soonTo get there in time, we’d be over the moon.It all seems so hectic, why all the rush?Is life getting faster, or is it just us?The things of importance really can’t waitThe lesson of elders is learned far too late:Respect for each other and being kindThe greatest, most perfect bequests left behind:To walk in the way the Master has walked,To talk in the fashion he graciously talked,To know sins forgiven in earlier yearsAre lessons to learn which can save us from tears.Back to index

PENTECOSTThese men are drunk, they’re full of wineTheir actions pierce the soul;What foolish men behaving thus-They’ve lost their self-control!God speaks to us with gravitas,In deep religious tones,Not through some glossolaliaOf babbling human clones!The Spirit is the breath of God,Creation’s ‘tour de force’;He comes and goes as God decreesA marvellous mystic course.These men, God’s ordered plan dismiss-His ancient ways ignore,And by this ‘exhibition’ urgeNew marvels to explore.Yet those from countries far afieldTheir native tongues detectIn men untutored in such skill-A mystical effectThe living flames upon each headNo human hand designed;Could it just be that God has comeAnd caused this fire divine?Back to index

RETIREMENTI’m sort of sad in a funny way-Quite the oddest thing to say-But looking at the things I’ve doneIt’s been hard, yet it’s been fun.Now it’s over, in the past,Can’t believe it’s gone that fast.There are memories I shall keep,Dizzy heights and lows so deep;Confidences locked away,Hidden from the light of day;Leading some to know the Lord,In itself the best reward;Much, much more I should have done,In my eagerness to walk, I’ve run;Travelled far when prayer was bestPutting God to many a test;Always, always grace was thereEven when I’ve known despair;God is faithful, that I’ve proved,If he’s distant, I have moved;This my willing testamentIn his hands I’ve been content.Back to index

STAR OF WONDERThere is a star that draws me,It signifies the way;Not heav’nly shaped and twinkling,But shining, bright as day;It points me to the SaviourWho came that I might live;It is a star of wonderThat only God could give.And though it shines so clearlyI sometimes look away, -My gaze becomes distractedAnd then I start to stray;But still the star keeps shiningUpon the path ahead, -It leads me ever onwardsTowards that cattle shed,‘Twas there the Baby JesusWas born on Christmas Day;And millions since have found himBut still men lose their way.The star- God’s word- is shiningFor all the world to see, -It is a star of wonder,How great God’s love must be!No longer does the mangerThe tiny baby hold,The shepherds and the wise menHave been and left their gold,That Christmas scene is hist’ry,It happened long ago, -But yet the star shines brightlyIt’s miracle to show.Back to index

TALKING ABOUT JESUSWe talk about the weather,How rain will surely come,The country’s facing ruinIf ‘something’ isn’t done –We fill the air with sayingsAnd people wisely nod;We need to find some momentsTo share the things of God.The cricket and the footballAre spoken of with ease;Why should the name of JesusSo many folk displease?Perhaps it isn’t JesusWho people so resent;It could be his disciples -The folk like us he sent.A cross is sometimes carriedIn sufferance, not with pride;The pain is seen so clearly,-False martyrs men deride;But where the joy of JesusIs real in what we claim,They‘ll listen to the messageAnd gladly hear his name.Back to index

THE CROSSWhat is the fascination with the crossWorn round a thousand necks,A silent witness to their faithA way to show respect?If all the wearers of the signIt’s occupant acclaimed,Then would the churches overflowAs Christ as Lord is named.Back to index

THE HAND OF GODSometimes I see the hand of GodIn pleasant rolling hills,Far from our world of war and crimeAnd ecstasy of pills-The beauty of a cloudless skyUntouched by man’s design,A flawless scene of perfect hue,Eternal without time.Sometimes I see the hand of GodIn fallen snow on snow,With footprints still to make their markAs spoors of felines show.But e’er the wonders of the worldHave time my soul to bless,I hear the sound of man’s discord,And see him cause distress.And yet I see the hand of GodIn man’s poor parody,For in the cries of crises come,A hidden melody.God is in us, his hand is seen,His wonders are made known;I see his hand at work today,Whenever love is shown.Back to index

THE HEALING CRUSADEArms in the air, ecstatically raised,Thousands expecting, thrilled and amazed;People disabled, wheelchairs employ,Others are dancing, radiant with joy.Christians are off’ring such fervent prayer.This is the place for freedom from care.Faith of the saints upholding the frail,Who else will pray if they were to fail?Disease is rebuked, and so is fearNo doubt about it, Jesus is here!Sceptics are silent, lame people walk,Those who are healed are desperate to talk;Excitement is mounting, is there more?‘Lord we’re believing’ now we implore.Now it’s all ending, time to go home,Leaving together, thoughts all their own.Why is God silent to man’s appeals?Does he just care for people he heals?Healings are tokens, loving displays,No man can fathom all of God’s ways;There is a healing many ignore,God’s greatest healing –Grace for us all.Back to index

THE REBELS CRY!Sunday would be a different day;If I was asked to have my sayI’d lie in bed ‘til half past threeAnd get up just in time for tea;No more sermons, no more hymnsNo more worrying over sins;I’m for freedom, I’m for pop,Heavy metal, ‘til I drop!Things would change, I have to say.If they’d let me have my way.No more times of holy hush,Dragged to meetings in a rush;No more Alphas, no more bands,No more clapping holy hands;I’m for freedom, I’m for pop,Heavy metal, ‘til I dropThings would change, I have to sayIf they’d let me have my way.No more uniforms to wear,No raised eyebrows if I swear,No more prayers and no more psalms,No more talk of Easter palms.Listen carefully older folk,What I say is just a joke-I’m expected to rebel-Something we do very well!Pray for patience while we growEven when we seem so slow;Don’t despair if we don’t fitWe’ll get there- just bit by bit.Look beyond our words and styleHumour us with grace and smile!Punk today is just our way‘Mods and rockers’ were your day,But inside we’re just like you-People who need loving, too.Back to index

THOSE BORING SERMONS!I’ve counted window panes in church,And hymns have ‘anagrammed’;I’ve had a wicked gleeful grinAs organ keys have jammed.I’ve wondered if that priestly hatSo pointed needs to be;Perhaps, I thought, the vicar’s headWas some catastrophe.I’ve watched the woodworm worm the wood,And at the ceiling peered;Could one last hole in timbered joistConfirm what I most feared-The saints who in devotion kneelAnd pray so ferventlyA blessing from above might get-So unexpectedly!But still the preacher droneth onAnd on and on and on;I sometimes wish he’d wonder whereHis congregation’s gone.The wall plaques are of interestTo pass the sermon time,I wonder if in future days,Those bored will notice mine.But worse than that, I wonder if,I’ll know I’ve passed awayOr is this really heaven hereWhere sermons last all day?I think that I am still aliveDespite the purgatoryOf listening to a preacher preachSo long and boringly.The church is full of history,Reminders of God’s power,Why can’t we be excited hereIn this the worship hour?Why is God’s presence hard to senseWhen he is very real?Perhaps we think it’s just a form,A form without appeal.Far greater things we’re promised nowThan Jesus did on earth;I cannot see that happeningUnless there is new birth.Let’s lift our hearts in worship then,And act out our belief;The transformation we shall seeWould make such sweet relief!Back to index

TOO MUCHThe hurtful word,So often heard,It must not show,They cannot know;I dare not letMy feelings go,For Christ would not appear.Their lack of careThrough their despair,Attacks my guardAnd leaves me scarred;It is so hard,The daily round,Maintaining this veneerMust it be so,My will forgo,His life reveal,My own conceal?It is too much,This ‘inasmuch’,I shed too many a tear.But if not me,Who must it be?Does he in vainCall me by name?The marks I bearCannot compareWith wounds which are so clear.On CalvaryChrist died for me,From cross to graveMy soul to save;He rose to liveVictoriously,And welcomes all my fear.Too much to askTo take this task,To live todaySome debt repay?What sacrificeCould e’er sufficeFor one who gaveHimself to saveA worthless soulAnd made me whole?Back to index

TRUSTTrusting is not a last resortWhen other options fade,Or hoping something comes to passWhen life’s last hand is played.It’s trusting God at first, not last,(For ‘trusting’ then is fate),Relying on God’s bounteous graceWhich never comes too late;It’s being always in his will,Content, despite our care,And knowing he who bids us comeWill meet, with hope, despair.Back to index

NEVERYou know I am not worthyThat you should wash my feet;You know the places I have been,And who I chose to meet;You know the silent momentsWhen words I should have said,When arms of love I should extendBut coldness showed instead;You know the clouded visionI struggle to pursueMore filled with self and what I want,Than what I’m called to do;You know I am so shallow,However I protest;You see beyond the words I speakThe sins I have caressed;You know I am not worthyThis act of love to own;You must not wash my feet, dear Lord,To you my world is known.You know I am not worthyThat you should bow your kneeYou shall not wash my feet today, -Not for the likes of me!Back to index

IN THE NIGHTIt’s in the early hours,When everyone’s asleep,And nothing in the world is stirredAnd even cats don’t creep,It’s then the strangest thoughts invadeAnd take the mind in flight;Ah, what unknown paths are foundIn the middle of the night.Back to index

OLD AGEThe mornings are worse for the aches and pains,Arthritis, lumbago to give them their names;To bend down takes time and cannot be rushed,One’s hope to go fast is sure to be crushed.And standing up straight needs some extra thoughtMulti contraptions are urgently sought,Pulleys and zimmers once thought a huge jokeEstablish us all as ‘elderly folk’.We’ve handles on walls and sticks in the hallStrategically placed to stop a bad fall.Unlikely it seems when we all start out,But measles comes second to things like gout.We hear the phone ring, it cuts off too soon,If we had time -we’d be over the moon.It all seems so hectic, why all the rush?Is life getting faster- is it just us?The things of importance really can’t waitThe lessons of age are learned far too late:Respect for each other and being kindThe greatest bequests we can leave behind:Are to walk the same path the Master walked;To talk in the way he graciously talked,To know sins forgiven in earlier years;These are the lessons to save us from tears.Back to index

PALM SUNDAY

I want to wave a palm leafTo welcome Jesus here,I want to shout hosannaAnd raise the loudest cheer;But there are those who hate himThey love their evil ways;Would I his life endangerBy showering him with praise?Would it incite reactionFrom those who fear his claim,Would those who crucified himJust do the same again?To welcome him in secretMight seem the prudent choice,Protecting him from anger,And silently rejoice.But Jesus came to offerForgiveness for mankind,How would the world receive it-The pardon he has signed?But must I stand by helplessAnd watch while love is spurned,Could I be all that certainThe lessons have been learned?I’ll join the crowd in welcomeBut not just for today,I’ll be there when the cross loomsAnd others drift away.If Jesus has to sufferHe will not be alone,The path he chose to followIs mine, as well, to own.Back to index

GOOD FRIDAY

He was just another criminalWho had to die that day,The soldiers had their ordersThey knew they must obey.They nailed him to a wooden crossAnd left him there to die,They gambled for his scarlet robeAnd then stood idly by;They didn’t care what pain he felt,Much less what was his crime,They let the crowd their insults hurlBlaspheming the divine;The three who shared a common deathWere viewed with pure disdainAll cries of innocence ignored,They had themselves to blame.A hundred times before and moreThe soldiers watched such scenes,Numbed to the cruel, barbaric sightImpervious to the screams.But Jesus spoke as no man spoke,His words were full of love,From lips though parched his prayer was heard,“Forgive them, Father God!’A soldier heard and instantlyIdentified the Christ‘The Son of God, he surely is’,The perfect sacrifice.The spears, the thorns, the nails, the taunts,Are covered by God’s graceWho comes to Calvary will findForgiveness in that place.Back to index

EASTER FOR EVER

‘Where have you taken him? cried Mary that dayThe stone of the tomb she had found rolled away,‘Why search for him here-he is risen indeed’ A tomb could not hold him, his glory impede; But still there are many who go to the cross And see him entombed sensing all they have lost; They stay in the graveyard of doubt and despair, Forgetting that Jesus no longer is there. The tomb remains empty, he needs it no more God raised him to life and his glory restored; The sacrifice made we must never forget Enshrined in our hearts, an unpayable debt But the gloom of the tomb was banished today It’s Easter for ever, he lives every day! Back to index PILATE

What was in the mind of PilateOn Resurrection day,When he heard that Christ had risenAnd his guards had run away?Was he filled with apprehension,Wondering where the Lord would be?Did he fear some retributionFor Calvary’s travesty?Did Pilate live his life in fearExpecting every dayTo see the man he’d crucified?Could grace his guilt outweigh.Did he plan his explanationIf Jesus should appear?Would he justify his actionTo salvage his career?In life he’d found no fault in Christ,He would have set him freeBut for the blood lust of the crowdDemanding what should be.Did he wonder if he met himHow Jesus would react?Would he blame him for what happened,And some punishment exact?Did Pilate know the magnitudeOf killing God’s own Son?Did he begin to realiseThe dreadful deed he’d done?Could the homage due to CaesarContinue now he knewThat life and death were in the handsOf Christ, the risen Jew?But Pilate worried needlessly,His crime went to the cross;Covered by the blood of JesusNo sinner need be lost.Forgiveness came at CalvaryWhen Christ became the sinFor all the crimes that ever wereAnd new life could begin.Did Pilate show remorse, regret,Repent of his disgrace?If so, we’ll see him on ‘that’ day-How wondrous is God’s grace!

‘JUST AS I AM’Just as I am, I am received,And loved beyond cruel nails and thorns,God sees me as his precious child,Though in the world I am reviled.The greatest sin man could create,Can not exclude me from God’s love,The blood of Jesus cleanses me,From every sin I am set free.Just as I am, I am received,Not to remain in that choice place,My will must yield to God’s great plan,That I shall be a better man.I cannot stay ‘just as I am’His grace requires I journey on,That Christ in me the world shall see,Not what I was-what I can be!

LOVE EXPRESSEDIf love is calculatedBy how much trust is shown,The daily tasks God gives usConfirms what must be known-His love for us is endless,‘Though we so often fail;Who else would risk his missionOn we who are so frail?Our promises are fulsome,Sincerely said and meant,But e’er the day is endedWe know we must repent.O that our God could trust usWhen much may be at stake,When just a word is needed,Excuses we create.God’s love is overwhelmingAnd giv’n without reserveHe trusts us with his message-More trust than we deserve.And in return we tell him,With confidence we trustThe promises he’s givenTo every one of us;And when he says he’ll carryOur cares which weigh so much,We’ll give them as requested,To show our love in trust.But if love is imperfectWe’ll hold our burdens tight,And say God can’t be trustedTo use his awesome might.If love is seen in trustingWe’ll give to him our careAnd let him take the worryWe find so hard to bear.We can’t keep back some problems,-We have to let them go!To claim that God is trusted,That ‘trusting him’ must show.And those who bring their worriesWill find they’re truly blessed,For loving God by trustingWill see his love expressed.

'JESUS'When we hear the name of JesusNot used religiously,Are those who speak in such a wayAware of Calvary?Is ‘Jesus’ just a way to swear-To mouth obscenity?Must he, who is the Son of God,Endure such blasphemy?Do those who verbally abuseHis precious, lovely name,Not know his blood was shed for them?Have they no sense of shame!Do they not recognise God’s loveIn giving us his Son?Could it be true they’ve never heardThe mighty works he’s done?Lord, grant us courage when we hearThe Saviour’s name reviled,To challenge and to demonstrateWe’re proud to be his child.

GOD’S WAYS ARE NOT OUR WAYS(Isaiah 55:8)God’s ways are not the ways of man,His power exceeds our might,We reach, too soon, extremities,When hope fades from our sight;We use the word ‘impossible’-A word God can delete;Compare his miracles each dayTo tasks we can’t complete;Who holds the stars in bright arrayAnd resurrects the deadCan surely take away our fearsOf all that lies ahead.When words seem sham with emptinessAnd echo out of place,The language of God’s silence breathesThe power of mystic grace;We need not understand his waysTo trust him with our care-No explanation can sufficeTo prove he’s everywhere.Who sees the Saviour on the crossCan glimpse the Master plan-The inexplicable displayed-God’s ways, not those of man!

GOD NEEDEDGod needed a womb to birth him a Son,When Mary he chose, the work was begun.God needed a man to father his Son,When Joseph he chose, the work was begun.God needed a home to nurture his Son,In Bethlehem’s stall, the work was begun.God needed a way to instruct his Son,By those in God’s house, the work was begun.God needed to show his love through his Son,And people believed- the work was begun.God needed a day to honour his Son,When he was baptized, the work was begun.God needed assent from Jesus his Son,“Not my will, but yours”, the work was begun.God needed to say,“Come home now my Son”The time has now come, the work was begun.God needed to have, in heaven, his Son,To plead for our cause, the work was begun.God needed to show the way to his Son,When Pentecost dawned, the work was begun.God needed us all to worship his Son,When we owned his name, the work was begun.God needed his home to welcome his Son,When Christians arrive, the work has begun.God’s needs are fulfilled through Jesus his Son,God wants us in heaven, the work has begun.God welcomes us home because of his Son,The work he began is finished and done!

PASTORINGJust when I’m ready to commune with GodAnd know the blessing of my time with him,The phone will ring, some minor crises comeDemanding time before I have begun.The claim, legitimate in every wayInsists that its priorities be met,Yet I am desp’rate to receive God’s grace,Awaiting in that sacred, mystic place.I share the burdens of the sore distressed,I smile with joy at others’ answered prayers,And wonder if my giving will sufficeTo bring to those I meet a glimpse of Christ.Reserves ebb out, I need that place of graceLest I am tempted in my strength to share;Yet those bereaved and those in deep despairMust not be left without they know we care.If there was just some time to be renewed,To linger in the presence of the Lord,Then could my ministry achieve its aimOf bringing glory to the Saviour’s name.But as I lose myself in bringing hopeA miracle occurs within my heart-God knows how much I long to seek his face,He brings, just where I am, that mystic place;And as I speak, his gracious words I hear,My silences, his presence gently fills-That which I seek from God in solitude,He gives when I must serve the multitude.

BELIEF Belief is not that easy When our world is crumbling fast, As circumstances worsen, And shadows round us cast.The needed strength and answers Seem a million miles away, We feel such devastation That lasts throughout each day.Belief is not that easy When the problems all appear, It seems that our tomorrows Hold all the things we fear.Believing is not feeling, Feelings change too easily It’s resting in God’s promise- God answers faithfullyBelief is simply trusting In God’s providential care And knowing he is faithful Through days of dark despair.Believing is relying That the word of God is true, That God will hear and answer, And bring us safely through.Belief is never easy If the cross makes no appeal, For there the Saviour showed usHis love for us is real.

BURDENSSome burdens are carried each dayTheir heaviness robbing of hope,It’s sometimes so hard to go onThere’s doubt we’ll be able to cope;But those who have friends are so blessedFor sharing can lighten the load-This message is sent by such friendsWe’re praying your needs to uphold.

A PRAYER - GOD’S VESSELIf the vessel that I am cannot be filled,Cannot receive the Spirit that I need,Then empty me of all that would preventYour gracious act of giving, Lord, I plead.If the vessel that I am is getting fullOf things that come before the things that should,A clearer vision grant, that I may chooseTo have the very best, not just the good.If the vessel that I am no longer servesTo share with power salvation’s wondrous plan,Alert me to the barrenness within,And fill me as you did when I began.HOW LONG?Based on the words of Jesus:‘O unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall Istay with you and put up with you?” (Luke 9:41)How long must Jesus be with usBefore his power is known?How long his promises be heardUntil our trust is shown?How often must we hear his voiceAssuring, “All is well!”Before we let our worries go,And in his presence dwell?How distant will we choose to beWhen Jesus comes to heal,And comfort us in times of needTo answer our appeal?How great the sorrow we must causeTo him who loves us so,When all the gifts that he would giveWe carelessly forgo.How long must Jesus be with usBefore we recognizeHis Lordship is our greatest joy,And veils drop from our eyes?How great his joy when we releaseControl of what we fear,That through the power of mystic grace,His healing can appear.

ON THAT DAYIf they’re missing on that morningWhen the dead in Christ will rise,Will I feel at ease when JesusLooks at me with tear filled eyes.Will my mind turn to the peopleI have met along the way,Will I wonder if I’m guiltyFor their absence on that day?Did I really share the gospelWith conviction and with pride?Did it not seem that importantTo explain why Jesus died?When the angels sing their welcomeWill my family be there, too?Will they miss the great awakeningWhen all things are made anew?Did the thought of sharing JesusWith those close, embarrass me?Are they missing for that reason,Are they lost eternally?Will I see my friends rejoicingAs the master greets us all,Or are there empty spacesFor people I recall?Did it seem a distant happeningWas I lulled by passing time?Did I think it didn’t matter,That I mentioned things divine?Did the urgency of Calv’ryFind in me reluctancy?Was the message of salvation,Shared as it was meant to be?If they’re missing on that morningWhen the saints all gather there,Will it be because the gospelOne of us has failed to share?On the day we meet with JesusAnd the final trumpets sound,May we see that none are missingWhen we stand on holy ground.

‘SEEDS’Seeds that are sown more of their kind produce,For mighty oaks, ‘tis acorns we must sow;From ages past no other way is found,The law of nature says that it is so.In meadow and in hedgerow it applies,From tadpole to the frog, it is God’s way;From pupa comes the butterfly we see,All living things the laws of God obey.And Christians, too, are birthed by Christian seeds,God’s Spirit feeds and nourishes with careExamples of the Master’s life we sow;At harvest time the seed its fruit will bear.But words alone and not the deeds of ChristCannot suffice, nor angry turns of phrase,They cannot fledgling Christians bring to life,For we are subject to God’s sovereign ways.If we have sown some seed that we regretIt cannot be recalled, its path remake,But if we plant more seeds of love and graceThey can, and will, the bad seeds soon replace.If what we sow we know we all must reap,That sown in us by God must be our seed,To sow and sow until the harvest time;This is our task and this must be our creed.

‘SALVATION’If I would pray five times a dayResponding to the call to pray,Would it be pleasing in God’s sightIf in his eyes my words are trite?And though the minarets inviteFrom morning to the start of night,If I obeyed their plaintive call-Would it redeem my sinful fall?If I attend at fast and feastAnd eat correctly slaughtered meat,If clothed in tessellated shawlI pray at Israel’s Western Wall,Could I be sure my sins are cleansed;Does on such things God’s grace depend?Do rites and customs satisfyThe God who sent his son to die?If at each door in every streetI visited lost men to greet,And they would take the tracts I gaveWould this ensure my soul I’d save?If in the church its creed I say,On hassock kneel to humbly pray,Could I salvation’s prize then claimIf all I do, I do again?Do uniforms with “Saved to Serve”Alone my place in heaven reserve?Can music offered with great skillReplace God’s death on Calvary’s hill?Will caring for the down and outsRemove that vague eternal doubt?What more is asked than what I doFor me to know I’m made anew?How easily I can forgetThat Jesus paid my sinful debt;Not all the deeds I do for himCan rid me of a single sin;Unless his sacrifice I ownRedemption will remain unknown;None else can for my sins atone-‘Twas through his blood-his blood alone!

A PART OF HEAVEN

I cannot breathe or hardly walkMy heart beats fast, then seems to stall,I get so tired, I want to sleep,I dare not stand in case I fall.Lord hear my prayer, be near I pray,I need your touch so much today.My feet won’t move when I say go,Each day there comes another ache,I can’t believe I’m now like this,My mind’s confused, my hands all shake.Lord hear my prayer, be near I pray,I need your touch so much today.I’m worried now, I’m growing old,I cannot hear, my sight is dim,I’m far from well and fear the worst,It seems I hurt in every limb!Lord hear my prayer, be near I pray,I need your touch so much today.“Dear child, I hear and understand,You need not fear, your steps are planned;This time will pass, you have my word,I’ll walk with you, come take my hand;Your strength may fail, my grace will not,You’ll find I’m there when hope seems lostA part of heaven I have for you,Come close my child, I’ll share your cross.”

GOD’S CHOOSINGSome people seem so nat’ralWhen called to do God’s work,They’re skilled and often gifted,It’s plain to see their worth;They have so much to offer,However hard the task,It’s really not surprisingThey’re people God would ask;They’d make the best of servantsAnd serve God with success,With attributes apparent,So many they could bless;But I have no illusions,My talents are so fewSo many could do betterThe tasks that I can do.“My child, I am not lookingFor only those you see,-The ones who are so giftedWho do things easily;My choosing and anointingEquips the ones I call,I do not have exceptions,My grace extends to all;Your background does not matterWhatever it may beA world of joy awaits youWhen you say ‘yes’ to me!”

THE LIKES OF MEIt’s not the worth I see in meThat fits me for eternity,It is the blood at CalvaryThat Jesus shed so lovingly;My many words cannot sufficeTo substitute Christ’s sacrifice,For he alone could pay the priceTo free me from sin’s deadly vice;However grandiose my planThough better than some other man’sMy debt was paid e’er I beganHe died for me, God’s spotless Lamb;Yet in my sin, he welcomed meAnd through his pain and agonyHe ransomed me and set me free;For me-for me! How could this be?It’s not the worth I see in me,He sees my pride and vanityBut still he calls insistently;Just as I am? With all you see-No trace of true humility,My lack of grace and honesty,Do you still call the likes of me?‘Remember child, that awful dayWhen life itself just ebbed away,When man had truly lost his way,On Calv’ry’s cross they heard me pray“Forgive, they know not what they do”I prayed that for “the likes of you”!

IS IT REALLY CHRISTMAS?That first Christmas morningWas nothing like ours,Blesséd Mary was longingTo see daylight hours,To see without shadowsThe stable they shared,-The birthplace of JesusSo crudely prepared;No reindeers or sleigh rides,No lights twinkling bright,No crackers or tinsel,To shimmer that night,No Santa with presents,No carols were sungAs lanterns were swingingAnd church bells were rung,No cards bearing greetings,No family around,No grandads or grandmasCould even be found,Just Mary and JosephAnd ox in the hay,Not much of a welcomeFor Jesus that day.But is it so differentWhen some people say,“Be Merry, it’s Christmas,Be jolly today”?Yet can this day for themStill Christmas be calledIf in the word ‘Christmas’The Christ is ignored,-If they do not worshipThe child who was born-The Saviour of all men-That first Christmas morn?

MARYExpecting a babyAs thousands had done,But Mary was differentShe carried God’s Son,An angel had told herThe favour she’d found,The child she was bearingAs King would be crowned;With privilege came heartache,Plans cherished must end,Her innocence questionedBy family and friend;But grace was extendedFrom birth to the CrossAnd all that was takenShe counted as dross;She carried a burdenBeyond giving birth,She followed the footstepsOf Jesus on earth;How often she wantedTo spare him the painOf people rejectingHis heavenly claim;But would she have chosenThe task God ordained,To be in a familySo privileged but shamed?No mother could watch him,And stifle her criesAnd bear all the anguishAs hope for him dies.Had God been mistakenTo give her his Son-The plans he had promisedHad scarcely begun,A kingdom in tatters,A king on a cross,The proof of God’s failureHis ultimate loss;As Mary stood weepingBy grief overcome,God and his hand maidHad both lost their son;The worst that could happenHad happened that day,For Mary, her first born,They’d taken away;But man in his evilCan’t end what God starts,And those who will trust himHave joy in their hearts;And the grief Mary feltWas just for a time,For Jesus is risenHer Son was divine.WHAT KIND OF GOD?The world looked lost and hope was goneAs God surveyed the scene,The Paradise in Eden madeAnd all that could have been;He saw the wickedness of manDespite his lavish love,And heard defiance of his word,They scoffed at heaven above;The messengers of truth he sentWere ridiculed, ignored,The people who in love he’d birthedNo longer call him Lord;Despite the miracles he gaveTo bless them and inspire,They turned their backs on Godly waysPreferring their desires;Should God despair and start againWith other, better men?Why should he not, he had just cause,Not ‘if ‘, we think, but ‘when’?We could not claim it’s not deserved,All history proves the case;Who could complain if God had saidOur sin exceeds his grace?What kind of God could see such sin,And knowing who to blame,Yet out of love provide for usRedemption from our shame?It is the God of AbrahamOf Isaac, Jacob too,The God who changes not through years,And to his word is true;The sins of man can only beRemoved by God’s own hand,But would he come to earth himselfAnd with such people stand?Look now and see that shining starAbove a stable bare,And in a manger for a cribYou’ll find the answer there.

NO EXPENSESo many who this Christmas timeReject the Saviour’s birth,Will celebrate a cause unknown,Content with empty mirth;A glass of wine, a party hat,Some presents bought and shared,‘It’s Christmas now for everyone’And no expense is spared!If only they would realiseIn all their false pretence,When Jesus came at Bethlehem,That God spared no expense.

CHRISTMAS EVEThey were weary, exhausted, ready to sleep,But prospects for Mary and Joseph were bleak,The inn was all full and the doors were all barred,After walking all day, rejection was hard;That first Christmas eve we remember today,And get quite nostalgic about ox and hay,But all they were offered was this cattle shedWhen Jesus was born as the angel had said;The world had to know that a Saviour had come,That God in his mercy had sent us his Son;The angels found shepherds in fields watching sheep,Though long be the nightfall, their watch they must keep;They journeyed at once to the Bethlehem scene,Then talked to each other of what it might mean;God’s angels are still calling people to seeThe child who was given, a Saviour to be;And angel has touched us that journey to make,A vigil to hold, for the Saviour to wait;We gather to welcome the Christ child to earth,Tomorrow is Christmas, the day of his birth;Heav’n’s angels are ready to herald again,And we are the ones who must tell why he came;We’re now fast approaching that first Christmas morn,Bend low at the manger, a Saviour is born!